


"You Are Cordially Invited..."

by Sdktrs12



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fighting As Foreplay, Mild breath play, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26551960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sdktrs12/pseuds/Sdktrs12
Summary: When he’d first come to her with his...proposition, Beth had laughed.When he’d just stared at her, waiting her out, she’d flat out said no.And then he’d informed her it was non-negotiable.There was a wedding and Rio was invited and Beth was now his plus one.A boss, a very high up boss, had heard some murmurings of their...relationship. Both of the professional and personal nature.Enough to catch their attention and suggest in a way that didn’t allow for argument that Rio bring Beth with him to the reception.Rio at least seemed as displeased by the notion as her.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 45
Kudos: 297





	"You Are Cordially Invited..."

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be PWP, but in true writer fashion, I tripped and fell and whoopsied my way into a plot because I'm an idiot who has no control over their own fic.  
> Enjoy these two being complete nightmare wedding guests!

Beth slips her heels on, almost tripping over her own feet as she surges up off the bed and strides across the room to where her jewelry box sits atop her dresser. 

She’s running late, he’s going to be here any minute, and god forbid she not be ready by the time he’s knocking on the door. 

Or rather—just walking right on through the door. 

Beth briefly pauses in her search for her earrings, trying to think if he’s ever actually knocked on her front door before. 

On _any_ door. 

She shakes her head, huffs out a humorless laugh, fingers sorting back through the tangled mess of bracelets and necklaces until she finally finds the teardrop earrings she’s been searching for. 

She wonders about the time as she pushes an earring hook through one hole, glancing around for her phone as she does. 

She pokes her head into the bathroom, but doesn’t see it there either, and then remembers—she’d left it out in the kitchen after she’d finished talking with Annie and Ruby. 

Annie had called her, Ruby already dialed in, hesitantly teasing about Beth’s big “date”. 

Beth had not been amused. 

And she gets their concern—really, she _does_. 

But it’s almost comical, she thinks, the needless worry. 

The two completely different sides of the spectrum of worry—whether he’ll finally just decide to off her or get her off. 

Beth’s just rounding the corner from the hallway to the kitchen, lost in thought over the latter worry, trying to get the second hook through her other ear, when she stops short, letting out a tiny shriek and she winces as the earring hook stabs sharply into her ear. “What the _hell_.” 

There, settled on top of her kitchen island, is Rio, looking every bit as smug and at home as he had that very first time she saw him. “Thought you’d be expectin’ me darlin’.” 

“Expecting you to use the _doorbell_ , maybe?” She snaps, pulling the earring away from her ear and rubbing at her earlobe. 

“Need some help?” He asks, completely ignoring her comment and she rolls her eyes and briefly considers throwing the earring at him before bringing it back up to her ear and pushing it through, wincing a little at the ensuing pain because she does it more aggressively than she probably should. 

And it’s her turn to ignore him as she looks around for her cell phone, spotting it over on the counter by the kitchen sink. 

“I still have 15 minutes.” She points out after she picks it up and checks the time. 

He hums in agreement, but doesn’t say anything else or make a move to get down from the kitchen island and jesus, is this a preview of what this evening is going to hold? 

When he’d first come to her with his...proposition, Beth had laughed. 

When he’d just stared at her, waiting her out, she’d flat out said no. 

And then he’d informed her it was non-negotiable. 

There was a wedding and Rio was invited and Beth was now his plus one. 

A boss, a very high up boss, had heard some murmurings of their...relationship. Both of the professional and personal nature. 

Enough to catch their attention and suggest in a way that didn’t allow for argument that Rio bring Beth with him to the reception. 

Rio at least seemed as displeased by the notion as her. 

“You look good, mama.” He says and Beth slowly turns around to face him. 

He’s sliding off the counter and moving around it, closer to her and her hand comes out to grip the edge of the counter. 

He’s looking her over slowly, in that obvious way he does, completely unabashed, but this time around Beth takes the opportunity to do the same to him. 

And as it turns out, he cleans up _really_ well. 

Because _of course_ he does. 

He’s wearing a dark charcoal grey three piece suit that’s tailored to fit his body obscenely well. 

He hasn’t shaved for the event though, letting his scruff grow out a bit and Beth has the urge to reach her hand up and run her fingertips over it, just to see if it’s as soft as it looks. 

“Thank you. So do you.” She responds as calmly and politely as possible, but her voice betrays her, just the barest hint of a tremor to her words, and of course he picks up on it. 

He picks up on everything. 

Because he _does_ look good. Really good. 

He’s always been stupidly attractive. She’d known, but mostly ignored, those thoughts from the very beginning, because she’s not _blind_. 

The corner of his mouth twitches up as his eyes dart away for a second, visibly trying to school his features. “Oh, yeah?” 

“I’m sure you are very aware of...” She trails off, not sure where she was going with that exactly, but now anything she finishes it with seems too embarrassing. So, she just brings her hand up, flicking her wrist out to wave toward his face and body vaguely, trying not to blush. 

He rocks his jaw, that smile he’s been holding back starting to creep out across his face and Beth quickly turns away, grabbing her phone and spinning on her heel, needing to put some distance between them. “Fifteen minutes.” She calls out over her shoulder as she heads down the hall and back to her bedroom. She doesn’t really need the extra time, is pretty much ready to go, but when she hears his irritated sigh, she smiles. 

She sets her phone down and grabs her lipstick, walking over to the full length mirror to carefully reapply, and then steps back to look herself over. 

She’d been very...specific in her requirements for tonight's dress. 

She’d made the conscious decision to steer clear of any dresses in burgundy or navy and nixed any sort of pattern like...polka dots. 

That had narrowed things down considerably and she’d finally settled on a black quarter sleeve cocktail dress with a lace overlay and square neckline that showed just the barest hint of cleavage. She’d paired it with her nude pumps and she’s eyeing them critically, trying to decide if she should change them, when— 

“Got somethin’ for you.” 

Beth’s eyes snap up and she sees Rio in the mirror, leaning up against her bedroom door frame. 

Before she can respond or react, he’s pushing himself off the frame and advancing on her and she freezes because lately whatever follows that particular set of words is never good... 

He slows to a stop behind her, close enough she can feel his front brush up against her back, and has to resist the urge to close her eyes and lean into him. She watches in the mirror as he reaches into his pocket and her eyes widen slightly as he brings his hands up and around, breath catching in her throat as he fastens a clasp at the back of her neck and then lets go, the familiar set of pearls shifting and settling smoothly against her skin. His eyes lock on hers in the mirror, and her lips part slightly—she can _feel_ herself descending back into their mutual madness... 

Her phone vibrates on top of the dresser, snapping them both out of their trance. Rio steps back and Beth moves around him, giving him a wide berth so as not to touch him again, her fingers coming up before she can stop them, hesitantly touching the orbs that now rest along her clavicle. 

She barely has enough time to process what this even _means_ , because she’s picking up her phone with her other hand and her jaw is clenching as she sees the text message from Dean. 

He’s taken the kids to Judith’s for the weekend and he’s texted her almost every hour since, completely asinine conversation and questions, like he thinks if he keeps her attached to her phone there’s less chance she’ll have to be preoccupied by anything, or _anyone_ , else. 

This absurd pattern, _life_ really, they’ve trapped themselves in weighing heavy on her as of late. 

She clicks out of the message without responding, body shifting slightly as she watches Rio slowly stroll back over to her bedroom door. 

“Time’s up. Let’s go.” He says, not even looking back at her as he walks out. 

\---- 

Beth has to repeatedly resist the urge to reach up and touch her necklace again as they ride in his car in silence. 

Music she doesn’t recognize is playing quietly in the background and she’s itching to ask more about this wedding reception they’re headed to, but she’d already asked him a million questions when he’d first sprung it on her and he’d deemed to answer approximately five of them before completely shutting her down. 

She’s nervous, _anxious_ , to say the least. 

She’s met a grand total of two other people linked to Rio and his criminal empire, and that had only been purely by accident. 

Rio had been incredibly annoyed, especially when she’d insisted on staying and being introduced. 

The reception had been...lukewarm at best. 

She’s desperate to make a good impression, to show whoever this higher up is just how much she’s brought to their whole operation and the potential for more. 

Of course it’s not a serious sit down meeting, just a meet and greet at a party essentially, like those mafia weddings in the movies where half the guests are packing heat—wait no, she thinks, eyebrows furrowing. 

That’s not right. 

_That’s_ not what _this_ will be....right? 

She glances at Rio quickly out of the corner of her eye, noting how tense he is, posture rigid, fingers flexing against the wheel. 

It makes her wonder if _he’s_ packing... 

He lets out a sigh, turning his head to look at her and she realizes he’s very much aware of the fact that she’s been staring at him and she quickly turns her head to look out her window instead. 

He huffs out a laugh but doesn’t say anything and she wonders if this is how it’s going to be all night—stretches of silence and stolen glances, both filled with more than either one of them will ever admit. 

“I can practically hear you plottin’ in that pretty lil head o’ yours sweetheart. All you need to be worryin’ about is stayin’ in your own lil lane, yeah? Maybe we’ll both make it outta there in one piece.“ 

Beth’s mouth drops open as she whips her head back around to glare at him, his words dredging up uncomfortable memories and emotions, “ _Excuse me_?” 

“Look, this ain’t some PTA meetin’, a’ight—” 

“Yeah, maybe you should remember that too. I’ve handled PTA moms at those meetings a lot scarier than you and your little gang friends.” 

He rocks his jaw forward, his hand coming up to rub over his face, and she knows he’s probably two seconds away from pulling the car over and just dumping her on the side of the road. 

“Just don’t want you gettin’ too excited about all this, darlin’.” 

Beth scoffs at that, because _her_ getting too excited? Has he met himself? Before she can even respond though, they’re pulling up in front of an incredibly fancy hotel and Beth’s stomach drops when he says, “We’re here.” 

He uses the valet, which surprises her, but he seems to be familiar with this place and she wonders how often he’s come here. 

For business. 

For pleasure. 

Once they’re in the hotel, she has to practically run to keep up with his long legged stride and Beth seriously considers the possibility that he’s deliberately trying to lose her in the hopes she’ll never find the reception area on her own and give up and go home. 

It’s almost laughable in its plausibility. 

But then he’s stopping abruptly outside of a heavily draped open doorway, a vast ballroom just past a short hallway. There are flowers and glass decorative lanterns filled with candles on each side and Beth is guessing this is it. 

He turns to look at her, head cocked to the side as his eyes travel slowly over her, and Beth’s eyebrows furrow as she squints back at him because he seems to be...contemplating her? Appraising her maybe? She’s not sure, but she knows she doesn’t like the look on his face or trust whatever is going through his head right now. 

“Hope you’re ready to put on a show, sweetheart.” And she has exactly two seconds to be confused by that statement before he’s moving in closer and she actually takes a step back before his arm is wrapping around her waist to stop her. 

He nuzzles into her hair, breathing her in, and it catches her off guard, confusing her enough that when he moves next, pulling her over the threshold and down the hallway this time, arm still around her waist, she doesn’t resist, just...lets him. 

She’d always known she’d end up following him into hell and she thinks this may be it. 

The ballroom is decorated beautifully, lush greens and pinks interspersed with deep purples. The sheer size of the room is a little intimidating, let alone the amount of people scattered about—standing and talking in small clusters or seated around long tables or out on the dance floor. 

“Oh, look honey, there we are.” Rio says, pointing to a table with place cards on them. He lets go of her to scoop up the ones with their names on them as Beth continues to look around the massive space. 

“Are we _late_?” She asks, noting just how empty the table is and just how far into the event everyone else seems to be. 

He just grins back at her, holding the cards up in-between his fingers. “Guess we’re at table seventeen.” 

Beth notes it’s her maiden name written in fancy script on the top card and glares at him. She tries to reach for it—well, tries to reach for them both really, because she _is_ curious what _his_ says—but he pulls them away, just out of her reach. “C’mon, you already made us late enough.” He says, the slightest teasing lilt to his words and her mouth drops open as she makes a noise of outrage, reluctantly following as he takes off across the room, presumably toward their table. “I did _not_ make us late.” 

“You went five minutes over your time limit.” He points out and Beth stops in her tracks, because she absolutely _did not_ , but he doesn’t stop, just keeps moving and Beth is forced to pick up her pace to catch back up with him. He glances back over his shoulder at her. “Not that I’m complaining—like I said, you look good, mama.” 

“First of all,” She hisses, eyes darting around as they pass through the crowd, making sure no one’s overhearing them. “I’m a grown ass adult, you don’t get to dictate my time. Second of all—” Beth lets out a tiny gasp as she runs straight into Rio’s back as he stops abruptly next to one of the many long rectangular tables placed strategically around the room. “ _You have got to stop doing that_.” She takes a giant step back from him but he seems completely unphased, pocketing their place cards as he pulls out a chair and gestures for her to sit. 

Beth glances around the table, and there in the middle is a floral centerpiece with the number seventeen tucked into it. 

There’s a couple sitting down next to each other on the opposite side, but the rest of the seats are empty. They’re both staring at her and Rio curiously and Beth flushes, realizing they’ve heard the back end of that conversation and wonders what the two of them must look like together. 

She offers them a polite smile, which they return, before reluctantly taking the seat Rio is offering her. His hands slide over her shoulders and her eyes widen slightly in surprise. 

“Don’t worry, we were running late as well.” The man says, leaning across the table conspiratorially, “This one doesn’t know how to optimize her time either.” He jokingly sticks his thumb out toward the woman, who rolls her eyes but lets out a quiet chuckle. 

“I know what you mean man,” Rio says from above her, still standing close, “sometimes you just wanna...” His hands slide down and around, fingers slipping underneath her pearls, to wrap around the base of her neck, squeezing lightly, and Beth feels herself flush, breath hitching, thighs pressing tightly together as she resists the urge to squirm. 

Jesus, _what the hell was wrong with her_? 

She feels him stiffen slightly, knows he’s clocked her reaction, right before he applies just a touch more pressure, Beth’s hands moving down to grip the sides of her chair tightly in response. 

And then he’s sliding his hands back down to her shoulders to give them the same slight squeeze before letting go completely. 

The woman looks slightly intrigued by what's just transpired, but the man is blissfully unaware, laughing at Rio’s lame joke. 

“I’m gonna go swing by the wedding party table, think you’ll be okay on your own for a bit, darlin’?” 

And just— _what_? 

“Don’t you think that’s something I should be doing with you?” She asks between clenched teeth, fake smile plastered across her face as she resists the urge to stab him with one of the many forks on the table. 

“Nah. Not yet.” He answers, attention already across the room and that urge increases tenfold, but he’s walking away before she can say, or do, anything else. 

“I’m Rebecca, this is Eric.” The woman introduces herself and her date, who is scrolling through his cell phone now, but pauses to look up and offer a wave and a smile. 

“Beth. Nice to meet you.” She offers, giving them the bare minimum of her attention. The rest is on Rio. She knows she’s being a bit rude, but she’s too curious, needing to see exactly what he’s doing. 

He’s approaching some woman who is currently talking to the bride. She’s tall and curvy with long dark hair and dark eyes and she has this quiet air of confidence about her, like she commands attention. The way she’s dressed in coordination with the rest of the bridal party makes Beth think she’s the mother. 

When she turns and sees him, her face lights up and she smiles, a fondness there that catches Beth off guard. 

She watches as the woman turns to the bride, excusing herself, before her and Rio step off to the side. 

“So, bride or groom?” Rebecca asks, and Beth forces herself to turn back to the other woman, who’s smiling pleasantly, obviously aiming for small talk. Beth resists the urge to sigh, cursing Rio in her head for leaving her with _no_ backstory whatsoever. 

“Bride’s side. You?” She responds, figuring her best bet is to keep her own answer short and simple while redirecting the conversation as much as possible. 

Her eyes dart back across the room, watching as the woman places her hand on Rio’s arm as she leans in close, whispering something into his ear. Beth’s hands tighten around the edge of the table. 

“Bride for us too! I used to room with her in college—” 

“I’m sorry, could you just...excuse me for a second?” Beth interrupts, already pushing herself up and out of her chair before the other woman can finish her sentence. 

She’s halfway across the room when the woman looks past Rio and catches her eye and Beth falters, almost stops in her tracks completely, the warmth that had been there for Rio replaced with something much more coldly calculating. 

Then Rio’s looking over his shoulder and her footing is sure again as she crosses the rest of the way toward them. Rio shifts his body, rolling his shoulders back, jaw clenching as his hands clasp together in front of him and god, she knows she’s never going to hear the end of this, but _she doesn’t care_. 

“Hello,” She starts as warmly as possible, squaring her shoulders, hand coming up to hold out to the other woman and she hears Rio exhale a quiet laugh, but ignores him. “I’m—” 

“Elizabeth Boland, yes, Christopher and I were just talking about you.” The other woman takes Beth’s hand, her grip firm and solid. She looks to Rio, a mischievous grin on her face. “She is quite...eager.” Beth falters, trying to pull her hand back, but the other woman holds fast. “I’m Catherine. I’m sure Christopher’s told you as much about me as he’s told me about you...which is next to nothing.” 

Catherine finally lets Beth’s hand go and Beth brings both her hands back to smooth nervously over the front of her dress. She shoots Rio a look, but he just stares blankly back at her. 

“Yes, well, _Christopher_ does tend to hold his cards close to his chest.” 

Catherine hums in agreement, her dark eyes scanning over Beth in an eerily similar way to the way Rio’s do and it... _unnerves_ her. “Yes, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s been deliberately keeping us apart.” 

“Oh no, that doesn’t sound like him at all.” Beth replies dryly and Catherine laughs, delighted. 

“Maybe we should punish him for his indiscretion. Go somewhere private and...compare notes.” 

Beth’s taken aback by her forward suggestion and the innuendo there. Catherine’s a stunning woman, a few years older than Beth, she would guess, with a very large wedding ring on her finger. Beth wonders if her and Rio’s implied affair was in the past or more recent. 

She feels something hot and unpleasant rise in her chest at the thought. 

Before she can even think to respond to the invitation, Rio’s stepping close, wrapping his arm around Beth’s waist and pulling her into his side. “You tryin’ to steal my date, Catherine?” 

And just— _date_? 

Catherine laughs again, stepping closer, and Rio’s grip on Beth’s side tightens. 

“She _is_ just as fun to look at as you.” The other woman says, her hand reaching out, knuckles grazing over Beth’s cheek and she sucks in a sharp breath at the intimate touch. 

Rio hums in agreement and Beth turns to look at him sharply. His jaw is clenched and she can tell he’s tense, but she’s not sure why. 

Does he feel threatened by this woman? _Is_ she threatening him? 

“Christopher, why don’t you go get us some drinks.” 

Beth’s head whips back around at the obvious dismissal and she feels her heart rate pick up at the thought of being left alone with this woman now. 

Rio hesitates, torn between listening to what is an obvious order and refusing to give in to this mini-power struggle that seems to be happening. 

“I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.” Catherine purrs, sensing his obvious reluctance, and shooting him a mischievous smile. Beth almost laughs at the way Rio practically rolls his eyes as he finally lets go of Beth’s waist. He doesn’t ask Catherine’s drink order and she doesn’t volunteer it and Beth rankles a little at the implication he knows it like he knows hers. 

“So, we finally meet. I had to practically force him at gunpoint to agree to bring you here.” Catherine says and Beth can’t quite tell if she’s speaking metaphorically or not. “Why do you think that is?” 

Her directness is a bit off-putting to say the least, especially in comparison to Rio’s habit of keeping things vague. “Well, like I said, he likes to hold his cards close to his chest.” 

“Yes, and especially with his star pupil. His little...protégé.” 

Beth flushes at her wording. “That’s not exactly—” 

“Oh, please, that is _exactly_. I should know, seeing as how he was mine.” 

And that gives Beth pause. Not only because of the history she’s catching a glimpse of here, but the way she says the word— _mine_. 

“I didn’t realize you two were so...close.” Beth says slowly, trying to find solid ground. 

“I’m not interested in talking about him and I.” She says sharply and Beth shifts back at the hard glint in her eye. And it’s almost disconcerting, the way she’s softening so quickly in response. “I want to talk about... _you_.” 

“What about me?” Beth asks hesitantly, eyeing the other woman warily. 

A small smile plays at her lips, her eyes practically sparkling with amusement and Beth wonders if she’s still toying with her—if this is just another game...like the ones Rio likes to play. 

“You have children, correct?” 

Beth’s startled by the intrusive question, the complete one eighty in conversation, the casual way Catherine turns to look out at the crowd when she asks, and Beth follows her line of sight to the bride and groom. 

And it’s not a question really, she obviously knows Beth has children, probably knows more about her than she’d like. “I do.” Beth allows, cautious but curious where she’s taking this. 

“You do everything for them—feed them, clothe them, raise them. You give and give and give and they take and take and take and then one day they grow up and don’t need you anymore. And when they move on you’re left with...what?” She’s watching the bride and groom dance, the fondness and affection plain as day on her face, her hand resting against her chest, fingers tangled in her necklace, cherished memories of firsts and lasts hidden just behind her eyes. 

“Mine are still young, so I have a few years until we reach that point, I think.” Beth says gently, chest swelling as she thinks of her own kids growing up, how her and Dean may well be in this very position someday. 

“Oh, trust me, it passes by faster than you’d think.” Catherine says, huffing out a small laugh as she turns her head to look at Beth. “You blink and they’re walking out the door and you’re left wondering what you’ve spent your best years on. What you have to show for it.” 

Beth’s eyebrows furrow as her eyes dart across the room to the beaming bride. “Her. You have her to show for it.” She says slowly and Catherine laughs again as she yanks at her necklace a little before dropping her hand. 

“And still it’s them you’re thinking of, even as they leave you. Tell me Elizabeth, are those thoughts enough to fulfill you? Will they feed your soul long after your sense of purpose has ceased to exist?” 

And again, Beth’s taken aback by her forwardness, the aggressive way in which she’s forcing Beth to expose herself. “You don’t just stop being a mother.” 

“No, but you do stop being a caretaker, a _provider_.” 

Beth slowly shakes her head, lips slightly parting as if to say...what, she doesn’t even know, and nothing comes out anyway and Catherine nods her head, like that’s exactly what she expected. 

“Being a mom first and a person second is challenging. Especially for women like us. Women who were never given the opportunity to place their own personal entities above all others. It’s okay to crave another purpose in life, there should never be shame in that.” 

Beth flushes at her words, feeling like Catherine’s found a loose string in her perfect stitching, pulling just enough to unravel her bit by bit. 

She wonders if this is where Rio picked up that particular set of skills. 

“My kids _are_ my purpose; I will never be ashamed of that.” Beth says, unwilling to give her an inch. 

Catherine eyes her thoughtfully and Beth wishes she’d stop, feels like she’s digging in deep, deeper than Rio even, and it makes her shift uncomfortably. 

“How do you feel about Rio?” 

“What?” Beth feels like she’s getting whiplash from the sudden shifts in conversation. 

“Working with him? I can only imagine how much he stifles your...productivity. It must be infuriating, yes?” 

“It...has its moments.” 

“I’m sure. How would you feel about working for me?” 

Beth startles a little, eyebrows snapping together as her eyes narrow. “What?” 

“There would have to be a trial run first, of course. But I have a feeling you and I could do immeasurable things together, Elizabeth.” 

The way she says “together” and the use of her full name make her feel slightly uneasy and she offers her a tight smile. “Please, call me Beth.” 

There’s movement out of the corner of her and she turns her head slightly, almost relieved to see Rio finally coming back with their drinks. 

“So, what have you ladies been up to?” He asks, unable to hide his curiosity as he hands them their drinks and Beth immediately brings hers up to her lips, taking a long swallow, almost choking on it when Catherine answers Rio with the truth. 

“A coup d'etat.” 

“Really?” He says, sharkish smile, all teeth, spreading across his face as his shoulders roll back. 

Catherine hums, taking a slow sip of her wine and Rio’s jaw ticks. “I think your little protégé has learned all she can under your carefully guarded wing, don’t you think? Perhaps it’s time to branch out. She’d be a bit more suited to move on...with me, no?” 

Beth almost laughs at the implication that Rio has in fact taught her anything. 

“No.” Is his instant response anyway, short and clipped, barely restrained annoyance there, and Beth is less surprised at his answer than she is at Catherine’s complete lack of reaction to his dismissal. “Elizabeth works better under a...firmer hand, where she can be more closely guided.” 

And Beth turns to glare at him, bristling at the implication that she’s a subordinate, that needs to be _monitored_ no less, rather than an equal. 

She opens her mouth to argue, but he swiftly cuts her off, arm snaking out to wrap around her waist and pull her into his side again, squeezing tightly when she stiffens. “And I think Elizabeth enjoys my more hands on approach to teaching, don’t you darlin’?” He leans down, nuzzling into her hair, placing a soft kiss along the dip where her neck meets her shoulder and Beth fights the urge to close her eyes and lean into his touch. 

He’s playing into a more intimate relationship between them—into Catherine’s obviously already established perception of the two of them. 

But _why_? 

Catherine takes another drink, wetting her lips after as her eyes travel over the two of them in a way that suggests she’s not opposed to seeing where this is all leading, and she gives the most subtle of nods that seems to satisfy Rio enough to loosen his grip—just slightly. 

Beth finishes off her drink and hands it off to a passing waiter, already desperate for another. 

A man approaches then, leaning in to whisper in Catherine’s ear and she nods, acknowledging whatever he has to say before he steps off to the side and waits. “It was nice meeting you, _Beth_. I have some other business to attend to, but please, you two enjoy yourselves.” 

And just like that she’s gone, the man leading her away and over to the other side of the ballroom, all talk of business and branching out snatched away. 

“What _the hell_ was that?” Beth demands, pulling away, and he lets her. 

“If you can't figure it out, maybe it’s best you ain’t playin’ in the big leagues.” 

And just what the hell was that even supposed to mean? 

She’s furious, knows there’s no chance of him explaining himself or anything else and she feels herself flush hot with anger. 

Beth starts to storm off, wanting to just _get away from him_ before she does something to embarrass them both, but Rio grabs her arm, pulling her into him so suddenly she gasps as he twirls her around and out onto the dance floor. 

It’s so smooth and practiced, the way he does it, and it infuriates her even more. 

She tries to pull away but he stops her, grip tightening almost painfully. He presses against her, so close she momentarily forgets where they are, _who_ they are, briefly letting herself get caught up in the touch and smell and feel of him. 

But then he’s pressing his cheek to hers, the scruff there rubbing gently against her skin as he whispers in her ear, low and husky, “Aw c’mon, Elizabeth. Gotta give a proper lil show, yeah?” 

Beth’s eyelids flutter and she forces herself to take in a deep shaky breath before she pulls back from him slightly, saccharine smile on her face as she relaxes into his touch, letting herself soften against him. 

Carefully lulling him into a false sense of security. 

He grins triumphantly, right before she stomps down on his foot with her heel and he grimaces, gritting his teeth, grip loosening slightly, but he still doesn’t let go. 

“Oops, sorry, I’m a little out of practice.” She says sweetly. 

“That’s alright sweetheart, I’m an excellent teacher.” 

Beth snorts out a laugh that turns into a grimace as his hand tightens painfully around hers. 

“Just follow my lead.” He says, wrapping his arm firmly around her waist and pulling her impossibly closer. 

She notices the way he’s careful with the foot she stepped on and it gives her an unbridled sense of glee. 

He carefully navigates them around the crowded dance floor, until they find a more comfortable spot. 

And she finds herself falling into step with him easily, letting him take the lead, and he grins down at her, pleased with her compliance, and she resists the urge to step on his other foot. 

It’s stark, the difference between him and Dean, and it bothers her that she’s still comparing them in some capacity and she wonders if that will ever stop. 

“Why did you bring me here?” She can’t help but ask after a few moments of silence. “I’m not just some prop you can drag around, we’re—we’re business associates and I work just as hard at this as you do and I’m just as involved as you are and I’m _good_ at what I do—” 

“Elizabeth. I know.” 

“What?” 

“I know.” 

His admittance, the way he’s so easily conceding, throws her off. “Then...then why are you constantly trying to sabotage me? Catherine—” 

“Is not someone you want the attention of, mama. It’s better if she thinks you’re mine. Trust me.” 

She ignores the “you’re mine” and the way that makes something bloom in her chest, in favor of—“Why?” 

“What?” It’s his turn to be questioning her, confusion sweeping over his features. 

“Why should I trust you? When have you ever done anything that was in _my_ best interests?” 

“Oh, we gonna play this game tonight, huh?” His eyes darken as he stares down at her, jaw clenched. 

“No, I’m not interested in playing your little games anymore.” She tries to pull away but he won’t let her and she glares up at him as her fingernails dig into his skin. “You know what? Fine, let’s play.” 

He flinches and she thinks she may be drawing blood when he reaches up and yanks her hand away. She sucks in a sharp breath as he spins her around then pulls her back into him, back flush with his front, arms wrapped tightly around her, locking her in place. 

“Behave.” He murmurs in her ear, as he continues to sway them both to the music and his breath against her skin and the way his body is moving against hers ignites her senses, skin prickly and hot and her chest heaves a little as she looks out across the room and sees Catherine watching them closely. 

Beth slides her hand up and around the back of Rio’s neck, fingers gently caressing over the skin there and he nuzzles in closer to her neck and Beth smirks. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She says as she presses her fingernails in again, dragging them across his skin in one long stroke and he shudders against her and jesus, she feels it right between her legs, the ache there excruciating. 

He spins her back around to face him and she goes easily, putting up less of a fight this time around. 

“Why not? You’re just so good at following direction, sweetheart.” He finally responds, staring down at her with pupils so blown it takes her breath away. 

“Oh, anything for you, _boss_.” She presses up against him as she says it, voice laced with sarcasm as her breasts press into his chest and she can feel him hard against her, sending a thrill down her spine. 

“Anything, huh?” 

“Why did you bring me here?” She demands again, sick of his innuendos and double entendres. 

“You think I been lettin’ you stick around for what? Personal amusement? Darlin’, you ain’t that funny.” 

“I wouldn’t know because you never _tell_ me anything.” She snaps, stopping her movements, but he just forces her to fall into step with him again, not missing a beat. 

“Ever think maybe there’s a reason to you bein’ left in the dark?” 

“Yeah? And who is that protecting? You or me?” 

He doesn’t answer right away and she shakes her head, furious with herself and with him, for letting herself get caught up in this nefarious little game they keep playing. 

What was that saying—something about repeating the same mistakes over and over and expecting different results. 

Insanity. 

Yes, that was exactly what happened between them. Hell on Earth, she thinks. 

“Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” She mutters, yanking her hands away from him, and this time he surprises her by actually letting her go. 

She takes a second to recover from her surprise and then whirls around, stomping off the dance floor and practically running toward the double doors they originally came in through, trying to escape before he changes his mind and decides to ensnare her in his sticky web of lies and deceit again. 

She glances around once she steps out into the hallway, spotting a door further down and her steps are quick and sure as she makes her way over to it. 

The door is slightly ajar and she tentatively pushes it open the rest of the way, peeking her head inside, relieved when she finds it empty. 

She slips inside, still leaving the door cracked and moves to the long table situated in the middle of the room. Her fingers reach out to glide over the hard cold wood surface as she walks down the length of it, wondering how her life had become this...just— _this_. 

When she hears the soft click of the door closing behind her, she isn’t the least bit surprised. Doesn’t even have to turn around to see who it is. 

“You lost, darlin’?” 

“Nope. Just trying to find a single space in this entire hotel where I can get away from you. Apparently, this one isn’t it.” 

She hears his low chuckle and she tries to ignore the way the sound shoots straight between her thighs. 

How does every single thing he does with that mouth of his always end up turning her on? 

She feels him rather than hears him when he approaches, that magnetic pull between them ever present and she continues her lazy stroll around the table, only slightly picking up her pace when she feels him getting closer. 

She can feel his body heat radiating off him and the faint scent of him drifts over her just as he reaches out and slides his hand over hers on the table, stopping it, and her, from moving. 

“Catherine will notice you’re gone.” She points out airily, just to irritate him. 

“So...” 

“Why did you bring me here?” 

“You know that old sayin’, curiosity killed the cat?” 

She scoffs, because seriously? “Have you ever used a euphemism correctly in your life?” 

“Had to settle some rumors.” He finally relents, and her fingers twitch under his as he grazes over them. 

“Which is why we had to put on a show.” She fills in, mind racing with a slew of new and old questions. 

“Sure.” He answers glibly and Beth scoffs as she rolls her eyes again. 

“But why? Catherine seems very pleasant and professional.” 

“Yeah, lot o’ people front one way and before you know it, you're on your back chokin’ on your own blood. Catherine ain’t like me darlin’. You leave her with three in the chest, she’ll rip you limb from limb and gift wrap pieces of you for your family to find.” 

“Why...why do you care? You keep reminding me of the things I’ve done to you, the...issues we have. Wouldn’t it be easier to just...let me go?” 

“Wanna keep you close. Wanna keep you safe. Just...wanna keep you.” He says, voice low and husky, so close it makes her dizzy, and this time she doesn’t stop herself from closing her eyes and leaning back into him. 

“There's no one here to put on a show for....” She whispers, his words causing a shiver to run down her spine. 

“Ain’t a show, Elizabeth.” 

She reaches back at the same time his hand slides up and into her hair, grabbing a handful and yanking it to the side, forcing her head back and up so he can kiss her messily from behind. 

She moans into his mouth, wincing as his fingers twist tighter into her hair in response, and her moan turns into a gasp when he breaks their kiss to latch onto her neck as he turns them, pushing her into the table as he crowds her from behind. 

The table’s edge digs painfully into her hip bones and she squirms against him, trying to shimmy away from it, but he just presses her harder and she blinks back tears as she plants her hands flat against the tabletop and shoves her ass back against him, and he finally gives, groaning as he lets up, popping off her neck to grab her arms and whirl her around. 

He lifts her roughly, dropping her onto the table and she scrambles at his shoulders, shoving at his jacket as he pushes up on her dress. She wraps her hand around his tie and yanks, dragging him back into a kiss and he bites down on her lip so hard he draws blood. 

And if she wasn’t so desperate to have him inside of her, it might be almost embarrassing how wet she gets when she licks the coppery taste off his tongue. 

He tears at her panties and she hears fabric rip a second before they’re gone, and just— _great_ , yet another pair ruined. 

If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was trying to set a record. 

Her hands go to his belt, yanking it off and then makes quick work of his pants, shoving them and his boxers down. She reaches around, grabbing at his ass and sinking her fingernails in and he hisses, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands away, gripping them tightly in one hand as he reaches down with his other and grabs his cock, pushing into her without preamble, and her body jerks at the sudden intrusion. Her legs wrap around his waist, trying to pull him closer as she yanks at her wrists, letting out a whine when he refuses to let her go, the bones there rubbing together uncomfortably. He pulls out, then thrusts back in roughly, his arm circling around her waist, pulling her closer, keeping her locked in place as he sets a brutal pace, making her just sit and take it and take it and _take it_. 

Beth lets out a loud moan, head tipping forward and she bites into his shoulder hard, jaw locking as she clenches around him and a low growl rips through his throat as he finally drops her wrists to slide a hand back into her hair, twisting it up again to force her off. 

There’s a smear of blood left behind on his shirt from her lip and she grins wickedly when he notices and scowls down at her. 

She wraps her arms around his neck before he can grab her wrists again, holding on tight as he continues to pound into her and his hand slides out of her hair and down to her throat and Beth’s eyes widen slightly as he wraps his fingers around, pressing in slightly. She moans, eyes fluttering closed and he takes it as the invitation it is, pressing in even harder and Beth can feel her orgasm fast approaching. 

And how is it always this easy with him? 

She shoves at his chest and then his shoulder, smacking it a few times, her head dropping back and mouth falling open in a silent scream as she comes, hard. 

Rio’s hand slips, sliding over her pearls, wrapping around them and tugging as he comes right after her, and she vaguely registers the necklace snapping and coming apart, can almost feel the welt already forming at the back of her neck as the few pearls that have come loose ping and bounce off the table and onto the carpeted floor. 

“ _Fuck_.” Rio groans into her neck, dropping his hands to either side of her, pressing them into the table as he continues to rock his hips shallowly, making her shiver and clench around him again. 

He pulls back slightly, looking down curiously and Beth follows his gaze. “Oops.” He grins, the remaining part of the necklace still clutched in his hand, the broken strand of pearls rolling between his fingers, and Beth glares at him. 

“You are such a _dick_.” 

“Yeah.” He agrees, grin widening. 

She shoves him away and he goes easily, Beth gasping softly as he pulls out, their combined come already leaking out, her inner thighs sticky with it. 

She knows it’s pointless to even look for her underwear—god knows it’s probably destroyed beyond wear and he’s probably already pocketed it to add to his ever growing collection, so she presses her thighs tightly together instead, hoping she doesn’t have the urge to cough or sneeze between here and wherever the hell the bathroom is. 

He follows her out and she bites back a smile at the fact that he’s in need of a restroom as well—he’s already surveying the damage to him and his clothing as they make their way down the hall. 

She ducks into the women’s restroom and breathes a sigh of relief that no one else is occupying any of the stalls. 

Beth takes care of the mess between her legs in the stall and then makes her way to the sink, fixing the mess that is her hair and makeup and clothing. But there are a few things she can’t fix—her bottom lip that’s still red and puffy, the faint bruises already starting to form on her wrists, and the hickeys and bites he’d left scattered along the exposed skin at her neck and chest. She should be furious but instead she can’t help but feel anything but immensely _satisfied_. 

Beth can't help but smile to herself as she focuses on washing her hands, letting herself get lost a little in the lavender scent of the soap, and she’s just drying her hands off when she hears the door opening and when she looks up in the mirror, Catherine is there, leaning against the wall behind her. 

The other woman takes in her still slightly unkempt appearance, lingering on the marks now marring her skin. “You two will destroy each other, you know.” 

Beth flushes eyes darting down as she concentrates on drying her already dry hands. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“When such strong forces collide, only one of them is allowed to gain momentum, the other is forced to lose. It’s just nature.” 

Beth tosses the paper towels into the trash bin and slowly turns to face Catherine. 

“I know how easy it is to let yourself get sucked in, the push and pull is like a drug—addicting. But what are you left with when it’s gone?” 

Her last words echo the ones she’d thrown at Beth earlier, only this time she’s not talking about her family. 

The “I know” replays in Beth’s head and the heat from earlier, that uncomfortable weight in her chest, returns. 

Catherine slowly approaches and Beth backs up slightly, until the small of her back is pressed into the edge of the sink. 

She brings her arm up, hand outstretched in offering and Beth realizes she’s handing her a slip of paper. 

Beth hesitantly takes it, resisting the urge to open it right then and there. 

“If you get tired of weathering the storm.” 

When she’s gone, Beth finally opens the tiny square note, which only contains a phone number. 

She debates throwing it away, but in the end tucks it neatly into her bra, straightening herself up one last time before going out to join Rio.


End file.
